After Brwydr Camlan
by MissFeya
Summary: After Arthur's Last Battle, Merlin has to decide where to go next. And does a retired magician have the free time to reconcile with his/her nemesis? post-S5 (but set without knowledge of the finale), M after a few chapters.
1. After Brwydr Camlan

**UPDATE June 23, 2013: I have NOT yet watched the finale. If I see how they've ended it, especially as concerns Merlin and Morgana then I'll never write this and I'd really like to finish it. Please don't mention it in any reviews. Thanks!**

**Author's First Note: I've only recently gotten around to watching Merlin, so of course it turns out to be a five season-capped series, haha. I actually think it was a great idea on the writers' part, although having read some Arthurian legend I'm surprised they picked 5 and not say, 12. Once I had read an interview with Colin Morgan where he said they were going to follow the same ending as the legends I knew poor Arthur was toast. The Mergana thing is so new to the legend (and largely unexplored in the series too, damn) that I thought a post-series story could work fairly well. Enjoy! :)**

CHAPTER 1: After Brwydr Camlan

The sky was transparent the day King Arthur of Camelot was dealt a mortal wound by Mordred, his once most loyal knight.

When the battle was over between the knights of Camelot and the rebel army commanded by the sorceress Morgana le Fey, an ominous sun began to set, glowing morbidly in the west. It tinted the field in crimson, transformed armor into fire and the blood into garnet pools. Casualties were strewn across the battlefield shrouded in the moving shadows of the tattered standards, their embroidered declarations of house and family triumph transformed into eulogies and headstones. There were no wounded cries, for everyone was dead.

King Arthur had fallen with sword still in hand. Excaliber had plunged into the earth as the king, surrounded by his tireless knights, fell back for the last time. At least Mordred's blow had been answered with a mortal strike of its own. The unfortunate Druid lay crumpled on his side, icy eyes staring across the battlefield.

The king's arm stretched to the sky still tightly gripping the hilt of his shining blade, magically untainted by dirt or blood. Helmet long gone, Arthur's still, young features looked as if asleep. But the sun's crimson light did not tinge the king with the stain of blood. A normal day's sunshine, as fair as could be found in any part of Camelot, glistened around him; this was all that his loyal servant and friend had left to give him. Merlin's aged, wrinkled hand swept across Arthur's brow, smoothing the golden hair. He laid his other hand on top of Excaliber's hilt, covering Arthur's.

"My king," he murmured, tears bringing renewed shine to his faded blue eyes. "I strove so long to serve you so that our destinies would be fulfilled." He glanced askance at Mordred. "But-," Merlin's voice caught and he painfully swallowed. "I have failed. After everything, I could not do what had to be done, and for that I am sorry." Merlin's fingers gripped Arthur's until his arm trembled and his knuckles turned white. "I am so sorry, my friend."

Taking Arthur's hand from the sword's hilt, Merlin rested both hands on his chest. He kneeled for a moment with eyes closed, long fingers curled around his friend's, trying to ignore the metallic and dirty scent around him. Then, folding over Arthur's cloak until it covered his body, Merlin arranged it so that the gloriously embroidered Pendragon fully shone golden in the unearthly sunshine. Then Merlin pulled a slicing Excaliber from the ground.

With a quick whisper, Merlin banished any blood from staining the king's cloak ever again, and turned away from the purer light.

His red robe streamed out over the grass as he moved through the carnage; it rippled over fallen swords and bloodied outstretched hands. He stopped and laid a hand on the foreheads of all his dear friends. Gwaine and Percival lay side by side; they had fought at each other's backs. Merlin looked for Leon, but he was nowhere to be found.

In an almost aimless way Merlin strode east until the forest came up to meet him. There at the edge, where natural trees met the upheaved earth of a supernatural battlefield, lay his wooden staff, its crystal muddied. Picking it up he gave the field a last dejected look and turned to approach the forest when a moan erupted from nearby. A glimmer of hope lit in his chest and Merlin, using both Excalibur and his staff as supports, roughly leaped over the broad trunk of a fallen tree unnaturally uprooted only hours before.

Lying curled up against a cracked bough, with a bloody face and a great wound that cut through leather trousers and into the flesh of her right hip to the back of her right knee, was Morgana le Fey. Her eyes glared angrily through blood-matted hair, and Merlin gripped his staff in astonishment. His face worked hard not to show it.

"You're alive," he said in a tone that sounded neither disappointed nor relieved. Morgana's fist curled against her stomach and blood from a second wound on her ribs trickled out between her fingers; her breathing was labored as she bit out sarcastically, "Oh please, Emrys_,_ _help_ me."

His voice rose in a rage and his body and staff trembled as he looked down upon her.

"Is this really what you wanted, Morgana?"

Morgana's eyes slid away from him to look west over his shoulder into that bloody sun, over the destruction she had wrought, and the heaps of bodies that measured her failure.

Merlin stepped between Morgana and the sun's light and she narrowed her eyes as a crimson halo lit his robes and burned his white hair. Only his pale blue eyes shone from the shadow of his face. "King Arthur of Camelot, the Once and Future King, is dead. Your _brother_ is dead." Her eyes flitted down the hill toward the still brilliant patch of white light, then moved back to his. Stubbornly, she said nothing.

"You have destroyed the chance for a united Albion. Magic will fade from the world of men, and the practice of it will become nothing more than fairy stories. Your part in this is unforgivable," he intoned.

Morgana violently reared up into a sitting position, still supporting her ribs, angrily gasping, "I have done everything to bring magic back to this realm! I fought for Camelot! I fought Uther's cruelty and Arthur's injustice. I-

"You fought your father and brother for your own selfish reasons!" Merlin took an angry step closer to her. Morgana's fingers gripped unfeelingly into the tree's rough bark as she pulled herself to her knees, her imperious green gaze meeting his righteous one.

"My father and brother murdered people," she hissed. "And you waited and watched while violence was done to your kind-"

"The Great Dragon had prophesied-"

"No one else had the luxury of his prophesy!" Morgana's declaration finished as she rose to stand. Her voice clamored around him. "And what came of that prophesy, oh _Great Emrys_? Did you ever hear Arthur decree the welcome presence of magic? Did your beloved king sit you at his right hand and welcome you to his table and tell his children that you were one of Camelot's good and worthy men? Or did you make excuses for your friend until the moment he was struck down by the magic he betrayed?"

Merlin had listened to her with a face like stone, but now he slammed his staff on the ground, startling her slightly.

"Mordred killed Arthur, magic did not, Morgana, because it is not magic that excuses such a deed," he said in a warning tone. "If things had been allowed to run their proper course-" Morgana spat at his feet.

"Don't condescend and lie to me, Merlin, as you've always done, even as a servant boy." She relished the flash of sadness that crossed Merlin's face but stubbornly straightened her back, then winced as she pressed her palm more against her ribs.

"You thought you knew what would happen, so you let horrible things happen." Merlin's anger faltered for a moment.

Morgana panted, "_I_, not you, fought against the evil inside Camelot. If magic fades from the world of men," she fell to one knee," then it is because of _Merlin_."

He watched her finally collapse to both knees, her right hand still against her side and her left hand fiercely gripping the grasses beneath her, nails digging into the dirt. Merlin had opened his mouth to speak, protestations readying themselves on his tongue, when he heard the distant beat of horses' hooves. To the west, now lit in the golden light of sunset, seven knights had crested the hill rise.

They rode back and forth among the dead looking for survivors, arms pointing toward the far-flung colors of their friends; Merlin could see their defeated posture even from across the battlefield. As they moved closer Merlin could see the tawny hair of their leader, Sir Leon. He breathed a sigh of relief, and at once was struck by a fast-paced vision.

_Leon would set Arthur adrift on the very lake where Merlin had laid Freya to rest so long ago. Seven knights would remain loyal to a great Round Table, although tumultuous times would scatter the knights and their nation for centuries to come. But other round tables appeared in front of Merlin's gaze, both small and large, some surrounded by both men and women. There would still be round tables even as man created buildings that could scrape the sky. And they would forever be connected back through time to Arthur, the Once and Future King._

As Merlin came back to himself Sir Leon rode closer, and with a shout began to gallop toward the supernatural sunshine marking where his majesty lay. The knights all gathered to kneel around Arthur's body; their hands settled on each other's shoulders, heads bowed. The light cast their group in such a heart-wrenching image that Merlin turned away before it would change, holding it in his memory. He knew the image would have to last him forever.

He knelt beside Morgana and laid his hand over hers in the dirt. He could tell she wanted to jerk away from him but the pain froze her in place. She stared at the ground instead.

"We are done here, Morgana," he murmured. "They do not need or want us anymore." He looked her in the eye despite her downcast gaze.

Through gritted teeth she managed to say, "The world is magic. The world needs magic."

He nodded, and took his hand away from hers. Beneath her gaze, Merlin dug a long trench between them, flinging bloodied grass to the side and scraping the dirt until only pure, earthy moisture was visible. He placed his staff at the bottom of the trench. Only then did Morgana look up at him, in confusion and wariness.

Merlin settled back on his heels and took a small vial from his pocket. With one dirty, wrinkled hand settled against the cheek of his snowy beard and a slightly wry smile, he tipped the vial into his mouth with the other. As if a fog were blowing away across a mountainside, gone were the wrinkles, the snowy hair, and the knotted and gnarled hands. In their place were the black hair and end-of-day beard of a young man. Merlin capped the vial then looked up at Morgana with the restored crystalline blue eyes of her doom, her destiny, her childhood friend.

"What a clever trick," she said, drily.

His brow furrowed slightly, but he only placed the vial in the trench beside the staff and filled in the hole with dirt, patting it down carefully. Without looking at her, Merlin slid her free hand over his on top of the fresh earth, then pressed them down further into the dirt. He stared at their hands and nodded, as if in agreement.

"Yes," he said, "The world is magic."

****Please Review! I take all comments and criticisms. It also spurs me to keep writing this thing.**

**AGAIN, i****f you DO review, please don't reveal any finale events! I made it to June without seeing the finale! Don't even tell me if you liked it. ;) ****Thanks!**

*****In the meantime, totally go check out Duchess Emma's Merlin stories (they're Mergana, and fun and racy) or my Fringe story.**


	2. On a hillside

**UPDATE June 23, 2013: I still have NOT watched the finale yet. Don't tell me anything.**

**Author's First Note: Oh boy, another chapter! This one is shorter than the first but it seemed to reach a natural stopping point. I have not started watching the Merlin finale (I don't want it to be over!) so if there's any overlap it's completely by accident. I'm very attuned to overlap right now since someone plagiarized my first chapter; can you believe it? I asked them to take it down and they did, but sheesh. Thankfully TigerintheShadows spotted it and let me know; thanks again! Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter that I wrote myself this very afternoon from my very own brain. ;)**

_Merlin settled back on his heels and took a small vial from his pocket. With one dirty, wrinkled hand settled against the cheek of his snowy beard and a slightly wry smile, he tipped the vial into his mouth with the other. As if a fog were blowing away across a mountainside, gone were the wrinkles, the snowy hair, and the knotted and gnarled hands. In their place were the black hair and end-of-day beard of a young man. Merlin capped the vial then looked up at Morgana with the restored crystalline blue eyes of her doom, her destiny, her childhood friend._

_"What a clever trick," she said, drily._

_His brow furrowed slightly, but he only placed the vial in the trench beside the staff and filled in the hole with dirt, patting it down carefully. Without looking at her, Merlin slid her free hand over his on top of the fresh earth, then pressed them down further into the dirt. He stared at their hands and nodded, as if in agreement._

_"Yes," he said, "The world is magic."_

CHAPTER 2: On a hillside

"What _nonsense_ are you spouting now?" Morgana asked disdainfully as she pulled her hand back, clenching it tightly on her knee. She shook her head disbelievingly, staring down at the ground.

Merlin frowned, settled back on his heels, and flung an arm back toward the battlefield. "Do you think magic is meant for this, Morgana? Could you honestly say that you used your magic for an honorable purpose? Something worthy of Camelot?"

Morgana reared her head and rolled her eyes at his words. "So high and mighty, Merlin. If you thought magic was so wonderful then why not use it to help magic folk?" Her voice was almost earnest now. "Why not use it to help me?"

Merlin opened his mouth and then closed it quickly. His inner tirade at her reaction had been interrupted by her question, a question that had many answers. He was thrown, and he reverted to his simplest justification. "Kilgharrah told me to protect Arthur and-"

"Kilgharrah! And Kilgharrah knows all," she mocked contemptuously. "Kilgharrah rules Camelot and magic, and hands down judgments, does he? The vicious old lizard. What I could have done for magic had there been no 'Last Great Dragon'."

Merlin listened without surprise at Morgana's disdain, although he did not know the extent of Morgana's knowledge of the prophecies against her. But, uncertainty passed over his face as she spat out her last sentiment.

"As I said before, _magic_ doesn't need _us_," he repeated, making a nonchalant production of using the bottom of his robe to rub the dirt from his hands. He rocked back into a standing position and surreptitiously glanced down the hill.

Morgana had looked up, preparing another sarcastic retort, but paused when she saw his face. God, how many times before had she seen him look so longingly at the knights, by the practice yard or during a feast? Other than the grin that so easily turned the serious and sarcastic boy into the playful and teasing boy, Merlin's expression now as he watched Sir Leon wrap Arthur's body was the most familiar to her. Well, she had not seen either expression in years, had she? Now, Merlin only looked at her with hatred and disappointment.

Merlin shook his head as if to clear it and kneeled again behind the uprooted trees, out of sight from most of the battlefield. As he cursed himself for looking he suddenly heard Morgana say in her usual taunting manner, "Maybe you're afraid no one will ever need you again, magic or not."

His head snapped over to look at her, blue eyes piercing in their anger, and scoffed, "What, do you imagine Queen Mab is anxiously awaiting your arrival in the enchanted forest? You think she can't protect the magic in her own realm without your help? You never even found the Diamair, and such a creature has no love for you. Or do you expect the Disir to welcome you home? They have their three."

He advanced toward her, glaring into Morgana's stubborn green eyes, although their stubbornness seemed to waver when confronted with his knowledge of three powerful entities she had previously thought known only to her. Merlin did not notice, and continued matter-of-factly. "_Who_ would possibly need you, now?"

Morgana looked stricken, and angry, and hurt, her lips a paler pink than Merlin had ever seen before. Across the mere inches that now separated their faces, he could see that his response had delivered the intended cruel effect. Merlin felt a familiar guilt twist in his gut and clenched his fists in resentment. But indeed, his angry brow relaxed and regret kept him from going any further. Morgana's own emotion clouded her gaze so strongly she could not notice his restraint.

Morgana turned toward the ground so Merlin was faced with watching caked mud crack on her throat as she spoke, with an uncaring tone, "I'm rather exhausted of you right now, Merlin. Since I doubt you can muster up the courage to kill me, it would be nice if you went away."

Morgana's voice had grown much fainter as she spoke; he knew she would not hear any retort of his. Blood had dried and stained the hand on her ribs an ugly dark brown. If she swayed away from her leg sometimes her breath would catch in her throat. Then the ground would glisten red for awhile more.

But he couldn't indulge his instinct to help her. Not yet. Not after everything she had done and while his friend was being mourned on this very same hillside. So he answered her question again, "It doesn't matter if anyone needs me. I've spent the better part of a decade trying to fulfill a destiny that I never reached. My friends are dead and my king is dead." He sighed. "I'm not so worried about what I can do for magic anymore."

This seemed to provoke some energy in her, and she impatiently retorted, "So you give back your little trinkets in some show of, what? Sacrifice?" She rolled her eyes. "Like you ever needed them."

"I was trying to-!" Merlin sputtered in surprise, but his indignation was stopped cold when Morgana's elbow bent and could hold her no longer. She slumped down into the grass to her left, reopening the wound on her ribs and revealing just how much blood she had been losing from the wound on her leg.

"Morgana!"

Merlin hurriedly bent over Morgana and placed a hand on each wound. Healing spells emerged naturally from his lips but her eyelids and lips fluttered. Morgana's hand had stayed on her ribs, now under Merlin's hand, but it didn't move and she didn't fight. Morgana managed to slowly shake her head.

"What's wrong with you, Merlin?" she whispered bitterly. "Why do you always try to save me?"

Merlin shook his head and quickly yanked his robe over his head. He threw the robe over Morgana and slid an arm under her shoulders.

"Just stop," she murmured, and feebly pushed at him. Merlin scoffed and hefted her legs over his other arm. Morgana retaliated by digging her nails into the side of his neck. He hauled her up and started toward the forest, his neckerchief having blocked her efforts.

"You stop," he retorted, picking his way over the last of the fallen trees and finally disappearing into the forest.

****I really do appreciate reviews so much. I'm struggling to capture their voices; I wish it were so easy as saying, "Then Merlin did that disapproving grump-face that Colin Morgan's so good at." Ah well. **

**If you DO review, remember don't reveal any finale events! I mean ANYTHING. Don't even tell me if you liked it.****


	3. Make a case

**Still (It's June; I know) haven't watched the finale *covers ears* la la la la la. I keep thinking that I can watch the writers' version and then write this but I keep stopping myself. If you review, please don't reveal what happens. Reviewers have implied I won't want to finish this if I did know what happened in the finale.**

_Merlin shook his head and quickly yanked his robe over his head. He threw the robe over Morgana and slid an arm under her shoulders._

_"Just stop," she murmured, and feebly pushed at him. Merlin scoffed and hefted her legs over his other arm. Morgana retaliated by digging her nails into the side of his neck. He hauled her up and started toward the forest, his neckerchief having blocked her efforts._

_"You stop," he retorted, picking his way over the last of the fallen trees and finally disappearing into the forest._

CHAPTER 3: Make A Decision

Dusk had already settled in amongst the trees so Merlin slowed his progress to avoid tripping and dropping Morgana. Otherwise he tried not to look at her, his lips pressed in frustration. Merlin cursed his inability to leave her on the field; wasn't this how he came to be on that field in the first place? Suddenly, he set her against a tree, not caring when her face scraped the bark but tucking the robe around her nonetheless. Panting, he backed away and sat clumsily against another tree, elbows propped on his knees. Merlin clasped his hands and dug his thumbs into his forehead, hoping his slapdash healing spells had done enough to give him time to think.

"Never could follow an order." Morgana's voice, with renewed energy, carried through the twilight. Merlin looked up at her, unamused.

"I saved your life. I feel like Pendragons never thank me when I save them," he huffed. He was suddenly struck with sadness. He had not looked back at the knights. Morgana threw his red robe aside.

"When you save one of us permanently then maybe we will." She intently examined the wound on her leg, casually flinging her insult without watching for its result, but Merlin was struck dumb.

"You didn't heal me permanently," she pointed out with a small smile, with a tinge of respect.

But Merlin missed any compliment and said in an overly sarcastic tone, "You're not surprised I healed you at all? I've had a lot to do today, what with a war and all. I'm a little tired." Morgana tilted her head to the side and pouted in mock sympathy.

"Poor, all-powerful Merlin," she said, and smirked. Merlin sent a look of disgust her way, never having felt more manipulated. As if reading his thoughts, Morgana continued in a more nonchalant tone, "I probably would have died. You almost reached your goal." Then she swiftly rolled up his robe and handily tossed it at his feet. The green of her eyes deepened in the twilight, taunting him.

Merlin rolled his eyes as he caught it. "Don't be helpful, Morgana." She raised her hands in mock surrender.

"I _was_ being helpful, I think. You _almost_ got to kill me, as you've been trying to for so long." Morgana cast him a sidelong glance and she asked tentatively, "What stopped you from leaving me there?"

Merlin stood up so quickly he was in front of her before she could plan an exit. Startled, she directed a stubborn look up at him. "Morgana, killing you was never a goal. Ever." His clenched grip on the robe belied his apparent calmness.

"Believe me, I've desired you hurt, I've wanted you locked away, but I've never wanted you dead. It is that unfounded paranoia that started all of this!"

Merlin strode silently away, dropping his robe but out of her reach. Coldly, he threw over his shoulder, "I'm getting some firewood."

Face burning, Morgana went to charge after him. "Unfounded?" she hissed into the darkness. The abruptness of her movements however, split the new, pink skin on her ribs and she crumpled back down beside the tree, snarling in anger. Morgana viciously yanked off her jacket and tunic and started to rip the cloth into strips. Once healed she would show him the consequences of everything _he_ had done to start this.

**Okay, yes it's short. But I've got later chapters already written and filling in the middle is difficult. Please review!**

****No finale spoilers, please!**


	4. Make a fire

**Okay. It's June. I STILL haven't watched the finale! I don't know how I did it, but I did. Little things have snuck through (thanks, Pinterest, geesh) but nothing plot-wise, so I beg you once again to NOT REVEAL ANYTHING.**

**I do like reviews though. Maybe I'll start ignoring my real life duties and write a little faster. ;)**

_"Believe me, I've desired you hurt, I've wanted you locked away, but I've never wanted you dead. It is that unfounded paranoia that started all of this!"_

_Merlin strode silently away, dropping his robe but out of her reach. Coldly, he threw over his shoulder, "I'm getting some firewood."_

_Face burning, Morgana went to charge after him. "Unfounded?" she hissed into the darkness. The abruptness of her movements however, split the new, pink skin on her ribs and she crumpled back down beside the tree, snarling in anger. Morgana viciously yanked off her jacket and tunic and started to rip the cloth into strips. Once healed she would show him the consequences of everything he had done to start this._

CHAPTER 4: Make A Fire

Merlin had dropped at least half of the wood he had gathered for the fire, and had wandered who knew how far. Walking in a sensible, straight line hadn't helped to expel the frenetic energy from his argument with Morgana. He had a vague feeling that he had seen that tree before.

Sure as always, Morgana drove him completely to distraction.

Leaves crunched under his feet as he shuffled slowly back to where they would make their fractious camp. In a muddled way, he knew the path regardless, by thinking of her at that tree. She spun around him as he turned this way and that, an odd compass. Cresting a small rise, Merlin quietly made his way to the edge of the clearing.

Twilight had fully sunken into the forest floor, covering trees and ground alike in blue. For a moment Merlin wondered if Morgana was even still there, his unsettling inner compass notwithstanding. Flames alighted in his eyes as he peered around the clearing.

Morgana was facing away from him and had draped her jacket across her knees. It appeared she had torn her tunic into shreds, knotted the ends, and was now carefully wrapping the ribbon around her stomach. Merlin's golden gaze traced from the crown of her dark head down the curved line of her spine, past the barely visible underside of her breast, to her nimble fingers neatly tying the cloth over her ribs. He watched her chin tip down to check her work and her hands gently press the cloth flat. She swept her hair forward, then touched the fabric across her back, experimentally straightening her spine and lifting her shoulders until pain halted the movement. After awhile Merlin no longer needed magic to look at her; moonlight cast itself against Morgana's back, creating a sinuous white outline of her figure among the blue trees.

But his eyes remained ablaze as, confronted with the truly vulnerable, capable, and beautiful woman Morgana could so often be, the persistent torment of questions about his erstwhile friend paraded through his head. Why hadn't she waited? Why had he abandoned her? Couldn't she be stronger? Why hadn't he lent her any strength? Where did her darkness originate? Could he have done anything?

"Merlin, I know you were sneaky enough to hide your magic from a prince who basically lived on top of you, but let's be honest about your tracking skills, shall we." Morgana spoke to him without looking, casually shrugging into her jacket. Merlin, startled, seized the bundle of wood to his chest and shook his head.

"My tracking skills? What on earth am I tracking?" Merlin approached the tree and threw the wood down beside her.

"The deafest deer could hear you clambering up that hill, Merlin. Although I'm not sure what a doe would do, should she catch a magician staring at her in the dark." Morgana's face was poised as she turned toward him, watching as he set to work on the fire, now with blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Again, I don't know what you're on about, Morgana. Look, firewood." Merlin's eyes flicked up briefly, pausing almost imperceptibly on the two toggles holding her jacket together and the inch of visible bloody cloth beneath. Morgana noticed though. With no hint of triumph however, she inclined her head toward the way he had come back from the deeper forest.

"Did you get lost out there?" Her voice still held such indifference, and it set him on edge. Without thinking, he answered, "No, I knew where you-" Merlin stopped when he noticed her slight movement out of the corner of his eye.

"No," he repeated. "I may not be the best tracker but I can collect firewood. Didn't need Dollop-head to teach me that one." Merlin risked looking at Morgana again and wondered if amusement had really been in her eyes. She slid closer to where he worked, coolly saying, "Hardly, what with all the trees."

Merlin let the quip fade unanswered. In response to her new proximity he moved himself away from the now roaring fire until his back was against the tree again, peering at her intently. Morgana reached her hands forward, causing Merlin's eyes to glow once more, but she was only warming them. Periodically she would scrub at the dried blood caked on her palms, tossing newly red leaves into the fire. He sat perfectly still.

After an age spent in silence, Morgana finally looked up at Merlin to find him already looking at her.

"I think we should get away from each other, Merlin," she said calmly. "I'd like to know which direction you're going tomorrow, and then I will obviously go the other way." His eyes narrowed.

"And what kingdom will you descend upon next?" he snorted. Her returning glance was slightly admonishing.

"Now, Merlin. We can strike a kind of peace, you and I. Just tell me which way to go. Or which way not to go, rather."

"Morgana, do you even _enjoy_ peace? This is a pretty pathetic attempt at manipulating someone who's so well-acquainted with your history." Morgana huffed at Merlin's bitterness.

"Stop indulging in your inner, petulant serving boy, Merlin. As I've said, and I think you know, you hardly have the courage to kill me. But that doesn't mean I want to kill you, or manipulate you, or any of the other ideas clattering around in your wooden head." Merlin rolled his eyes, but Morgana went on. "I want to return to the Isle of the Blessed." His eyebrows rose.

"But not if that's where you were planning to go, of course."

Merlin was put off. A look of uncertainty momentarily passed over his face, and then he met her gaze once more.

"I do not plan to go to the Isle of the Blessed," he started. Morgana nodded and said, "Fine. In the morning I'll go that-" Merlin interrupted as her arm was raising northward.

"But I'm going to escort you to the Isle of the Blessed," he finished. Morgana's well-hidden anger suddenly resurfaced as she protested, "Merlin! No. For one, I am not in your charge, and advise against your trying it."

"Morgana, you know I could-"

"And I can not imagine spending more days in your presence without deciding I _shall _kill you!"

Merlin grimaced and added, "And I will go to the lake to see Arthur put to rest."

Morgana clenched her fists by her sides. "I will not. Not ten days with detours, and not one day, and not one more night!" She rose swiftly and quickly swept past him as he scrambled to his feet. He raised a hand at her back.

"Morgana!" She froze, although he had used no magic. "If you want to travel to the Isle of the Blessed, then I will be there whether you agree to it or not." She did not turn around but her one raised boot slowly settled next to her other one. His tone was full of warning.

"I will follow you there and I will leave you there, and take any boats with me, and set such a spell on those walls that you will never get out."

He sighed. "Already my remaining life's work is to watch you, Morgana. But I will gladly do it, for Arthur and what could have been."

Morgana remained motionless, Merlin attempting to discern her most probable escape route, when her voice came through the new night's darkness.

"I will travel to the Isle of the Blessed, Merlin, and you may follow me," she said in an accommodating tone. His arm remained outstretched.

"We will travel to the lake and see the King put to rest, and I must speak with a friend. And then we will take you to the Isle of the Blessed," he stated clearly. Morgana spun around.

"A friend?"

Merlin dropped his arm, and just nodded. She swept back to the fire as quickly as she had left it, visibly ignoring him. The two settled uneasily on either side of the fire but Morgana faced toward the dark woods. Merlin stared intently at her glimmering hair, his face full of dread, and still unaware of her pleased, curving smile.

**Reviews, yes? Did anyone get that she might be playing him? (Again, no finale spoilers. Be cool.)**


	5. Make a start

**Hiya! Ok, I'm just going to change it to M. That part doesn't happen in this chapter, though I'm having fun writing it. ;)**

**I had to rewrite this chapter; I had started it a certain way, knowing it felt wrong, and didn't realize why until I was about to post it. So, redone. Ta-da. Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 5: Make a start

_"I will travel to the Isle of the Blessed, Merlin, and you may follow me," she said in an accommodating tone. His arm remained outstretched._

_"We will travel to the lake and see the King put to rest, and I must speak with a friend. And then we will take you to the Isle of the Blessed," he stated clearly. Morgana spun around._

_"A friend?"_

_Merlin dropped his arm, and just nodded. She swept back to the fire as quickly as she had left it, visibly ignoring him. The two settled uneasily on either side of the fire but Morgana faced toward the dark woods. Merlin stared intently at her glimmering hair, his face full of dread, and still unaware of her pleased, curving smile._

Dawn crept stealthily into the forest the next morning. Early on, before any animals stirred, Morgana awoke briefly and shifted off of a hip sore from the unforgiving ground. Sleep had claimed her quickly, steering her into frantic dreams stained with bloody reds and bruised purples and blues. Her eyes welcomed this time right before dawn when everything was devoid of color, and nothing moved. Not even smoke rose from their fire as she looked across to watch Merlin.

The wizard slept on his side, head resting on his folded arm, the other arm flung over his face so she could only see his nose and mouth. Morning dew had settled on Merlin's ruffled hair and on his shady beard but he didn't appear uncomfortable, mouth slightly open as he breathed faint white clouds into the air. Morgana swept her own hair over her shoulder to warm her neck in the chill, but it was damp too. Her eyelids lazily blinked, her mind still so exhausted from the dreams and her body aching at her ribs and her hip, now pressing sorely into the ground.

She decided to turn over again, the hard ground on its own was uncomfortable enough, when she glanced at Merlin again in confusion. He had not moved, but Morgana found herself squinting at his outline, his face, his clothes. Was he awake? Morgana could usually sense when she was being watched, but she did not feel that now. His eyes were still covered anyhow. Rising a little, she glanced at the surrounding trees, peering into the heavy brush where Merlin had emerged with his firewood the night before. A few leaves swayed gently on a weak breeze, a bird finally woke and fluttered away to its breakfast, but Morgana still could not pinpoint what was making her feel so nervous. Frowning, she rolled over and settled down again, curling tightly around herself. Sleep came for her again, and she did not dream.

_Excaliber!_ Morgana woke with such force she propelled herself into a sitting position, gasping at the pain in her ribs. Bright, mid-morning sunlight succeeded in disorienting her as she clumsily turned over to look at Merlin. The fire was still cold but Merlin was gone.

"Merlin?" Morgana stared at the ground where he had slept and it looked as if he had never been there at all. She hauled herself to her feet, muttering under her breath. She stood shaking with visible anger, foot tapping the ground, arms wrapped protectively around her torso, mouth twisting in an effort to not scream or cry in frustartion. Not only had he abandoned her, _again_, but he had forgotten Excaliber! He had left it on the battlefield.

"On purpose?" she whispered aloud. With an exasperated shake of her head that sent twigs flying from her hair, Morgana paced to the fire and crouched, intent on forming a new plan.

"Damn you, Merlin!" she decried to the fire, churning the embers with a stick.

"I already _know_ you don't like the plan, Morgana," a tired voice spoke from the forest. Startled, and with a slight yelp, Morgana fell off the balls of her feet, hands landing in the fire's ashes. Merlin's head gradually appeared over the small hill that led to the stream. With a great deal of flailing, he managed to make it over the top, the fish he was holding onto only slightly sandy. Picking himself up, Merlin started toward the fire until he saw Morgana's murderous look.

"Are you the usual amount of angry or has something else happened?" he asked, slightly annoyed, and continued over. "Didn't get to conquer anyone this morning?" Morgana slowly finished brushing ash from her hands, the rasping filled the clearing. Merlin studiously began working on the fish.

"When should we start our little journey, Merlin?" Morgana's face and voice were completely calm now, sounding all as if she were at a council meeting. Warily, Merlin stopped to look at her, elbow leaning on his knee, the fish's body indelicately dangling from an almost severed head. She remained composed, her chin jutting stubbornly every now and then. Finally Merlin screwed his face to one side, exhaled loudly, and with a slight roll of his eyes said, "_I'm_ going to eat my breakfast. Then we'll go."

Morgana glanced from his eyes to the fish and back, lips now pressed together to prevent an amused smile. He blinked back at her, surprised. With a slight nod she inclined her head toward the stream, then carefully stood up and made her way down the bank, fully grinning. She _had_ expected him to share.

**Haven't watched the finale, blah blah, no spoilers, blah blah. Thank you, zarifa2013, for making fun of my paranoia concerning spoilers, haha ;)**

**REVIEWS PLEASE!**


	6. Bad start

**Yay, another piece! I'm glad for all the suggestions to not watch the finale because I probably would've stopped by now. The kind words have been much appreciated too!**

_"When should we start our little journey, Merlin?" Morgana's face and voice were completely calm now, sounding all as if she were at a council meeting. Warily, Merlin stopped to look at her, elbow leaning on his knee, the fish's body indelicately dangling from an almost severed head. She remained composed, with her chin jutting stubbornly every now and then. Finally Merlin screwed his face to one side, exhaled loudly, and with a slight roll of his eyes said, "_I'm_ going to eat my breakfast. Then we'll go."_

_Morgana glanced from his eyes to the fish and back, lips now pressed together to prevent an amused smile. He blinked back at her, surprised. With a slight nod she inclined her head toward the stream, then carefully stood up and made her way down the bank, fully grinning. She _had_ expected him to share._

CHAPTER 6: Bad start

Morgana stepped carefully down the embankment, boots sliding in the soft dirt. Once at the edge of the stream she peeled the boots from her legs and shook them out, dirt, pebbles, and what looked to be part of a shattered shield thumping to the ground. She splashed her way into the quicker middle stream until her feet were covered, then scooped a long drink into her hands. Stretching in the sunlight, toes sinking into the cool silt, Morgana closed her eyes to enjoy the forest once again. For a long time the impenetrable woods had served as her fortress where she could hid her mysteries and plot her next moves, tragically soon to be thwarted. The ancient, gnarled bark that had covered her homes, had sometimes been her home, was her protector she knew. The earth had not given her magic to see itself overrun with persecutors; the forest would always help her.

"Morgana! Where are you!" Morgana's eyes opened slowly, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. Turning slowly, she was treated to a view of Merlin scuttling down the bank, knees practically at his chin as he half-fell to the stream's edge. He looked at her hard, as if presuming her duplicity in just standing there.

"Well?" he asked expectantly. After a pause Morgana, whose arms had been down at her sides, extended her index fingers down and said slowly, "I'm in the river."

Merlin let her statement hang in the air before letting exasperation close his eyes and then muttering a sarcastic, "I can see that. Aren't you done yet; I'm finished with eating already." Morgana smirked, and splashed water up her arms and onto the back of her neck.

"Have you been standing here the whole time?" he asked, but she still ignored him. Suddenly a great breeze whipped through the little ditch, blasting Merlin's hair from his forehead and sending a spray of water smacking into Morgana's face.

"Puh!" she spit ungraciously and rubbed a forearm across her cheeks. "What was that?"

Hands on hips, Morgana attempted to stare Merlin down, but the blue eyes stared wonderingly at the sky, the arms were casually folded across his torso. With her own eyes narrowed and watchful, Morgana sniffed, and began taking her hair out of its braid. Obviously displeased by his failure to hurry her along, Merlin went to sit cross-legged on one of the large grey boulders, easily half as tall as him, lining the stream and only muttered, "Women" while looking sullen.

Morgana laughed as she leaned to dip her hair in the current, its inky tendrils stretching with the swirl.

"What would you know of women, little Prince-Assist?" She gathered her hair in her fists and twisted, while giving him an upside-down grin, "Or was Guinevere kind to you?"

Merlin may have lunged forward if he weren't sitting. "Be quiet, Morgana."

"I've seen the deepest recesses of your dear Queen's mind, Merlin. Where a woman keeps all of her private thoughts about the men in her life. She may seem loyal to her husband, but a woman's thoughts don't lie." Morgana began to make her way slowly out of the stream, her fingers languidly twining her hair together. "Wouldn't you like to know how you look through a woman's eyes? I mean, a friend's eyes, Merlin?"

He had gripped his knees tightly, and she thought there might be a faint glow in the back of his eyes. Morgana bent down to slip on her boots with a sly, sideways glance, so she saw him watching her movements. His eyes followed Morgana has she came closer. Leaning her body flat against his boulder, Morgana set her elbows right below his leg, almost touching, and propped her chin on her hands, her index finger raised to trace the bottom of her lower lip.

"You might be scandalized, Merlin," she whispered confidentially, but could not restrain the smallest upturn of her lips. She relished in his pained expression, the bloodless tips of his fingers tensing, loosening. Merlin saw it in her eyes, how she enjoyed this minuscule portion of the revenge she felt she owed him.

"Morgana," he said firmly, finally, "I don't think you could interpret a loving thought if you tried." He slid down the side of the boulder, the tension now mostly gone from his lanky frame although his shoulders remained high. He threw her a matter-of-fact glance. "And it's none of my concern." Merlin started up the embankment, making his way considerably smoother than before.

Morgana vibrated with fury, once again feeling as if she'd lost a battle, and raised a hand to go after him, then thought better of it. There was still so much to be done, and she would no longer submit to distraction. Instead, she chucked a stone as far as she could across the stream, where it burst through the trees and terrified a flock of birds, satisfying her. Determination in her step, Morgana climbed the embankment.

**As I get further along I feel like their personalities are changing, although I'm trying my hardest to keep within what I can picture the actors doing. Success? Please review!**

**7/3/13: I need to go back and watch a few episodes before I write the next part, so it'll be a bit while I find time. A useful review for this author who hasn't watched the finale is a yes/no answer to questions 1) Is Gwen dead? 2) is Aithusa dead? YES or NO.**


	7. To the lake

_**Here ya go!**_

_"Morgana," he said firmly, finally, "I don't think you could interpret a loving thought if you tried." He slid down the side of the boulder, the tension now mostly gone from his lanky frame although his shoulders remained high. He threw her a matter-of-fact glance. "And it's none of my concern." Merlin started up the embankment, making his way considerably smoother than before._

_Morgana vibrated with fury, once again feeling as if she'd lost a battle, and raised a hand to go after him, then thought better of it. There was still so much to be done, and she would no longer submit to distraction. Instead, she chucked a stone as far as she could across the stream, where it burst through the trees and terrified a flock of birds, satisfying her. Determination in her step, Morgana climbed the embankment._

CHAPTER 7: To the lake

Merlin scuffed his boot across the fire's ashes, tamping down any leftover embers, overtly ignoring Morgana as she hauled herself over embankment. Though in the corner of his eye he noticed her struggle, the way one arm cradled her torso, her hand pressed against her injured thigh, he merely turned away from her.

"Come on," was all he said. A few seconds later Merlin felt his crumpled red robe fly onto his head, and he whipped around to find a smirking Morgana staring back at him. He yanked it down onto his shoulders like a stole, glaring at the ground as he continued on his way.

"You're welcome," came the call from his back and he fisted his hands into the fabric. Soon he heard her footsteps behind him, never catching up but always keeping pace.

The terrain was easy-going, and while the sun remained bright the cover of ancient trees provided shade enough. Nevertheless, Merlin heard Morgana's strained breathing soon after they set out. Finally, they encountered a wall of rock as high as his head and stretching to the left and right for longer than he cared to detour around. Roots and fallen trees cascaded over the rock, so Merlin knew he could climb the wall easily, but he could sense Morgana could not. After appraising the obstacle, he turned to find that Morgana was thinking the same. Arms folded across her torso, she was biting her lip in doubt. Morgana's eyes flitted along the wall as Merlin watched her chest heave with effort. He could see the bandage around her ribs stretch and loosen with every breath, and her red, flushed skin behind the toggles of her coat, shiny with sweat up to her redder cheeks.

Morgana had started to say something when she noticed Merlin's gaze and stopped. Eyebrows raising in embarrassment, Merlin pressed his lips together and inclined his head toward the wall.

"What would you need to make it?" he asked. Self-consciously, Morgana surrounded herself more tightly with her arms, which mostly served to lift her jacket away from her body, exposing more skin across her waist.

"What do you mean?" she asked, watching Merlin surreptitiously angle himself away from her, then smiled at his back. He waved his arm at the wall.

"What'll it be? A felled tree? Ladder made of roots?" Merlin turned back to her then. "What will be the fastest?" Her face now back to its faintly anxious state, Morgana furrowed her brows.

"Merlin, I really don't think we have the time to accomplish those things." Once again she bit her lip doubtfully. Merlin's shoulders dropped in disbelief.

"I'll use magic!" Morgana's mouth twitched slightly in response to the indignation in his voice. She raised her hands peaceably.

"Any magician would feel exhausted after the...day we had," Morgana's tone was accommodating. "I feel drained myself." Merlin scoffed, his eyes suddenly alight.

"_You _are exhausted. _You _feel drained. Morgana, we're not the same."

Morgana shrugged and made a show of looking down the length of rock, as if searching for a better route. With a magnificent frown, Merlin stretched the index finger of his left hand skyward, then tapped it down, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Morgana's face.

A resounding crack echoed through the forest, making Morgana jump and snap her eyes back to Merlin. She held his gaze as the thick tree clinging above the wall behind him split itself in two, the bark groaning as shards of it flew into the air around them, and with a great whoosh the trunk tipped toward the forest floor. The tree crashed around the two magicians, teetering for a moment before settling on the ground in front of Morgana's feet. Leaves floated around them, fluttering against her and catching in her hair. Nothing but dust motes danced around Merlin, he was completely untouched, despite standing between two fallen branches. They stared at each other in the sudden silence, Merlin's face still and serious, Morgana's unreadable, except a slightly curious narrowing of her eyes. Wordlessly, Merlin turned to the tree and, using the branches as footholds, climbed to the top of the wall. He disappeared beyond the edge, leaving Morgana no choice but to follow him.  
The tree made an excellent makeshift ladder but Morgana was soon cursing with every lift of her right leg. As she neared the top, a hand appeared under her nose. She slapped her own hand down on it, almost without realizing she had done so, sighing in relief as her last step was considerably lightened. The hand was soon gone, however, causing her to stumble slightly.

"_Thank you, Merlin,_" she bit out sarcastically. He returned her glare.

"Heal yourself, Morgana," Merlin said frustratedly. "Why won't you heal yourself? Are you trying to make me feel guilty? Because I don't. You deserve everything that you-"

"What do I care about your guilt?" Morgana snapped back. She was fitfully tugging at her braid, unaware that it was unspooling on her shoulder.

"Then what?" Merlin demanded. "I know that you can do it. I've seen you perform spells twice as-"

Morgana cut him off again, "I can't perform this spell!" He looked at her silently for a moment, his eyes carefully moving over her downcast face. She continued twirling the ends of her braid around her fingers, her lower lip pushed stubbornly forward as she stood rigidly in the shade. Merlin watched as her eyelids blinked rapidly, until she finally raised tear-filled eyes that stared from an angry face.

"You're right, " she murmured, and her voice was hoarse. "We're not the same, Merlin. I'm not just exhausted..." She licked her lips and looked away; he watched her pulse moved rapidly on her throat. Once again Morgana wrapped her arms around herself and said in a whisper, "I am actually drained. I feel that it's gone."

"What?" Merlin asked silently, almost afraid. Morgana's eyes trained on him again, empty of tears but definitely afraid.

"My magic."

**Reviews, reviews. Review some reviews! Whichever. ;) Just no finale stuff, as per uje.**


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